


As Far as Hangovers Go

by uglyNicc



Series: Nothing But Couch Cuddles [1]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hangover, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, a bit anyway, mention of anyway, nothing interesting happens and I'm at peace with that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21976327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uglyNicc/pseuds/uglyNicc
Summary: Rhys drank way too much at the Helios Holiday party.The next day, he has to deal not only with a hangover, but with a gleefully annoying Jack as well.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Series: Nothing But Couch Cuddles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581961
Comments: 2
Kudos: 93





	As Far as Hangovers Go

**Author's Note:**

> *drops a random fluff piece after months of silence* I haven't forgotten about any of my fics/wips, but have been focusing on doodles over writing lately, sorry!
> 
> Please accept this Holiday rhack thing as my apology~

"How ya holding up there, kiddo?"

Rhys groaned, knowing full well Jack's voice wasn't usually that loud. He was definitely cranking up the volume on purpose. The prick.

His retort came out as a croak, words sticking in his throat, dry and rough like sandpaper.

Miraculously, he hadn't thrown up. His stomach was relatively calm, with the apparent trade off being that his head was in a state of complete agony.

Every source of light and sound was a personal attack, from the gentle pad of his bare feet across Jack's penthouse floor to the Mercenary Day tree in the corner of the living room.

Shuffling toward the couch, Rhys glared at the tree, for the first time feeling regret over needling Jack into decorating for the holidays.

Despite making a big show of how idiotic he thought the whole holiday spirit thing was, it'd been surprisingly easy to persuade Jack. Being the CEO of Hyperion, and an insufferable showoff to boot, Jack had sprung for a gigantic, real evergreen, imported and flown up to the space station from one of the Edens at considerable cost. The massive tree nearly blocked out the expanse of stars outside one of the floor to ceiling windows that made up the living room walls. Ablaze with twinkling white light, each and every shining gold bauble hanging from its branches was emblazoned with the Hyperion logo.

In this moment, Rhys absolutely hated it.

"Why aren't you hungover?" He asked accusingly as he curled up in a corner of the sofa, resting his head gingerly on one of the designer throw pillows against an armrest. Pulling a thick fleece blanket around himself, he grimaced as Jack dropped down heavily on the other end, the movement sending another wave of aches through his temples.

"'Cause I'm not a lightweight dumb-dumb like you," Jack barked back, grinning maliciously as Rhys winced at the noise. The older man swung his legs onto the sofa and prodded Rhys with his toe, like someone gleefully poking a hibernating bear with a stick.

Rhys swatted at his foot, scowling. "I didn't drink that much."

"How many of those rummed up nogs did you knock back?"

Furrowing his brow, Rhys tried to tally his drinks from the Helios Holiday Party last night. He'd had a couple with Yvette and Vaughn, another when that weird lady from marketing came to hit on Yvette -

"If you have to think about it, it was too many, pumpkin."

"Well how many did you-"

"Four."

Jack's shit eating grin only grew as Rhys' frown deepened. "One when we got there and made the rounds, one with your weird little slack jawed pals, one after our little tangle in coat check-"

Fuelling his state of alcohol-induced regret, Rhys face blushed crimson, eyes widening in mild horror as that memory came rushing back.

Nothing like witnessing someone's humiliation to make Jack absolutely ecstatic.

"Oh-HO, remember _that_ now do ya, sweetheart? Wasn't sure you would, how liquored up you were. But holy hell, whoever's coat that was, HA, they've got a helluva souvenir on their hands! Bastard deserved it, whoever they are. Pretty big flex, wearing a jacket to a party on a fricken' temperature controlled space station."

 _Oh God._ He couldn't remember whose idea it'd been, but they'd definitely snuck away from the festivities for a sloppy hookup. Getting lewd in a dark corner of the cloak room was something Sober Rhys would have turned his nose up at, but not Drunk Rhys, apparently.

The details were fuzzy in his hungover fogged brain, he just prayed they'd been discreet enough that the story wouldn't feature in office gossip on Monday.

Pulling the blanket over his head, Rhys willed himself out of existance.

"Why are you so cheerful anyway," Rhys mumbled in his little fabric cave. "You hate mornings."

"It's 12:30."

"Oh."

Grunting, Jack pushed himself off the sofa, slapping Rhys' ass as he passed.

Closing his eyes, Rhys found that if he just focused on the in and out of his breathing, and kept the blanket over his head to drown out all light and sound, he felt almost halfway decent.

Beginning to drift off, he was jolted awake by the jarring crunch and whirr of the coffee grinder and Jack rummaging in the kitchen.

"I'm gonna kill him, I'm gonna kill him, swear to god," Rhys muttered darkly as the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted his way.

Jack, who was now very loudly and tunelessly singing a crude rendition of a popular Mercenary Day song, made no indication that he'd heard.

He debated if it was worth the effort to retreat all the way back to the dark silence of the bedroom. Before he could decide, Jack announced his return by flopping down on the couch, setting his mug on the coffee table with a loud clatter.

Having just about had it, Rhys threw the blanket off. "Jack, please, for the love of-"

He yelped as Jack grabbed him by the elbow and yanked him across the couch. The manhandling induced a whole new wave of throbbing pains in Rhys' head.

"Unggggh what the HELL?!"

"For crying out loud, you're a grown ass man."

Jack leaned back into the pillows propped against the armrest, stretching his legs out over the cushions and maneuvering Rhys to do the same next to him.

"Quit whining already, you're giving me a headache," Jack groused. Aside from the arm he threw around Rhys' shoulders, the CEO ignored him as he reached for his coffee with the other.

With a sigh, Rhys backed down, their raised voices beating behind his eyes like a drum. Laying on his side between the plush couch back and Jack, this was as good a place as any to try for a nap.

He knew Jack wasn't one for cuddling, but Rhys was suffering and wanted to be as comfortable as possible. Throwing a leg over one of Jack's, he nestled into the older man's side, resting his head on a broad shoulder.

They lay in blessed silence, Jack sipping his coffee while Rhys watched the tree twinkle. From this angle, its light didn't seem so bad, it's gentle glow soothing even in his sorry state.

After a while, Jack grabbed for the remote and clicked through a considerable number of channels before settling on an extreme sports competition.

"These'd be better if the dipshits fell off those apparatuses into meat grinders or something," he commented offhand. Rhys winced, closing his eyes, the harsh light from the large screen burning his retinas.

He should probably get some water, rehydrate, get his body operating at normal capacity again. Rhys knew he should, but felt less and less inclined to move as time passed.

Even with his eyes closed, he could tell when someone on screen biffed it thanks to Jack's braying laughter and running commentary.

"Oh MAN, did you _see_ the way that idiot's shoulder popped? Pure GOLD!"

Groaning that he didn't care, Rhys pressed his face deeper into Jack's shoulder, wrapping his arm around the other man's midsection.

He waited for Jack to tell him off, to stop squeezing him like some stuffed animal won at a carnival, but the admonishment never came. Jack continued roaring over the misfortune of the contestants on screen between gulps of coffee, while Rhys attempted to snooze at his side.

Not sure how much time had passed, Rhys awoke groggily. Forgetting where he was for a moment, it took a second to register Jack's body against his, the couch under them, his head still in the throes of hangover.

He was about to check if he'd drooled in his sleep when he stilled, feeling fingers at his hair, stroking gently. The sound of the TV was faint in the background, but Jack was quiet. 

Rhys inhaled deeply, arm and leg tightening their grip around Jack. Making no indication whether he knew the younger man was awake or not, Jack tipped his head to brush his lips against Rhys' hair.

Humming contently, Rhys settled in to try for another nap. All his earlier complaining faded from memory as he relaxed, Jack's fingers soothing against his scalp.   
  
He could do without the continued, dull ache in his head, but as far as hangovers went, Rhys figured this one wasn't so bad.


End file.
